


Two in the Chaos

by icandrawamoth



Series: Rogue Podron Made Me Do It [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: X-Wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole
Genre: (because it's me), Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Comfort Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, First time with a man, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Kissing, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Topping from the Bottom, Trauma, referenced Wedge/Tycho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 01:52:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15159812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: “Coming back is hard. Remembering what Iceheart did to you, trying not to let it consume you.” Tycho fights back a shiver, his own piecemeal memories nearly as fresh as the day he left Lusankya. “The problem is, you're trying to do it alone.”“What did you do?” Corran implores, looking at him like Tycho is the only thing in the galaxy that can help. It pulls up a knot in his throat. “How did you deal with it?”“I needed to know that I was really out, that I was safe, that I had people around who didn't want to hurt me. I needed to feel something other than pain and fear.”





	Two in the Chaos

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Hurricane and a Tornado](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13111107) by [icandrawamoth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth). 



> 1\. This is a follow-up to A Hurricane and a Tornado but should read on its own if you prefer.  
>  **2\. Warning for brief, nonexplict mention of sexual assault, because Isard is the worst.**  
>  3\. Title inspired by [this](https://quotefancy.com/quote/907273/Sarah-Dessen-I-had-this-wild-thought-that-he-was-the-only-one-in-all-this-chaos-who-was).  
> 4\. In my "RoguePod Made Me Do It" collection because I never would have gotten to this pairing without them.  
> 5\. Why do I like this pairing all the sudden, please send help.

It's late in the night when a knock comes at Tycho's door, soft and hesitant. He wouldn't have heard it if he weren't already awake. But he is, so he climbs out of bed and pads across the room with bare feel, pressing the panel to slide the door open. He expects Wedge, needing to talk over his own nightmare, is surprised to instead see Corran.

The man looks like he hasn't slept properly in days. There are dark circles under his eyes and his hair is mussed, flight jacket tossed over his pajamas and sliding off one shoulder.

“Captain,” he mutters to the ground. “I'm sorry to bother you so late...”

“Don't worry about it,” Tycho says, stepping back and gesturing him inside. “I wasn't asleep, and this looks important.”

Corran winces but follows. “Maybe,” he dithers. He looks around, taking in Tycho's quarters before finally turning his gaze back to him.

“Is something wrong, Corran?” Tycho prompts.

“I couldn't sleep.”

Tycho nods. That much is clear. “You could have seen a medical droid for a sleep aid if it's a problem.” He knows already that's not what this is, but he wants to let Corran speak in his own time.

Corran chews his lip. “It's not that. It's – it's been like this for awhile. Since I came back from Lusankya.” He shudders just saying the name aloud, and Tycho feels flash of sympathy. It was like that for him, too, once.

He'd known Corran was having trouble, truth be told. He's watched in the weeks since his squadmate returned from the dead and ended his trial. Corran's visage has grown blearier, his reaction times slower. Not bad enough to really impact his performance in the cockpit, just take the edge off. But Corran has always kept so much of his thoughts and feelings to himself; Tycho wasn't about to force him to talk when he wasn't ready.

Still, he says, “You could have come to me sooner.”

Corran looks away.

“Corran.” Tycho touches his hand, draws his gaze back. “This doesn't make you helpless or weak.” He looks into Corran's eyes, needing this to get through. “I know what you went through in there. I know how hard it is to deal with.”

Corran's lip wobbles, and he bites down on it, hard. “I don't know what to do. I can't...do this anymore.”

“You can,” Tycho assures him. “I know you can. You survived. You resisted Iceheart's brainwashing, and then you escaped, which is more than I can say.” He shoves down the twinge of guilt, of failure, that fact causes. “But coming back is hard. Remembering what she did to you, trying not to let it consume you.” He fights back a shiver, his own piecemeal memories nearly as fresh as the day he left Lusankya. “The problem is, you're trying to do it alone.”

“What did you do?” Corran implores, looking at him like Tycho is the only thing in the galaxy that can help. It pulls up a knot in his throat. “How did you deal with it?”

“I needed to know that I was really out, that I was safe, that I had people around who didn't want to hurt me.” Tycho lifts a hand to Corran's cheek, marveling at the way he leans into it, eyes flickering closed, when a year ago he couldn't even look at Tycho without mistrust in his gaze. He thinks of their first private meeting like this back on Noquivzor, the heated argument and the unexpected kiss they hadn't acted on since. “I needed to feel something other than pain and fear.”

Corran lets out a rough breath and nods. His eyes slide open again, intense green. Tired, shadowed, a little desperate. “You had someone there for you when you got out?” he asks softly.

Tycho nods. “Wedge. He's always been there when I needed him.”

Corran stiffens and pulls away. “I didn't know you two were involved. I don't want to get between-”

Tycho hushes him. “We're mostly just friends. We've been through a lot together. But you know what this life is like: sometimes you need someone. It's not exclusive.”

“Okay,” Corran says slowly.

“If that's too much for you, I understand. You can leave right now; this doesn't need to change anything.”

For long moments, Corran is silent, and Tycho's heart drums in his chest. He doesn't want him to go. It's strange, but not entirely unwelcome, how close he feels to him now that they have this shared trauma between them. They understand each other in a way no one else in the galaxy can.

“I've come close to doing this before,” is what Corran finally says, eyes wary. “Using sex to deal with my emotions. I won't take advantage of you.”

“That's very noble.” Tycho gives him a smile. “But I'm happy to offer comfort, Corran. It doesn't have to be more than that. You don't need to marry me for us to have sex.” He makes it a joke, but the thought sends a small twinge through his heart like it always does, the ghost of Nyiestra ever-present.

Corran watches him for another few moments, clearly considering, but finally he says, “Okay.” Before Tycho can comment further, he adds, “I've never slept with a man, though.”

The admission is made without hesitation, without self-deprecation or challenge, just a truth. Tycho has seen Corran happy before, angry, grieving, even afraid. But this level of vulnerability is new. He understands its value and appreciates being trusted enough to see it.

“Is that a problem?” Tycho asks.

Corran laughs a little, still nervous but open, too. “If it was, I wouldn't have kissed you back on Noquivzor. There just haven't haven't been that many guys I've been interested in, and none I ever made it this far with.”

“I'll take good care of you,” Tycho promises, and he steps in. Hands frame Corran's face, and he guides him in for a kiss, easy and close-mouthed.

Corran leans into it unhesitatingly, and at Tycho's gentle prodding, opens for him, Tycho licking lightly into his mouth. He presses a little deeper, until Corran makes a soft sound, and Tycho's hands skim down his neck, over his chest, to the edges of his jacket.

“Can I undress you?” he murmurs, and receives a nod.

The jacket comes off first, tossed carelessly aside, and Tycho stops to kiss him again, attention focused on his neck this time, before he pulls up his shirt, Corran obediently raising him arms to let him remove it. When his chest is bare, Tycho turns his attention there, touching with light fingertips, long, exploratory trails as he listens to Corran's breathing speed.

“All right?” he asks and gets a soft _“Yeah”_ in response.

“Tell me if I do anything you don't like,” Tycho tells him as his hands go to Corran's waist, ease him back in the direction of the bed. Corran goes, folding as he hits the edge and sliding up and back at Tycho's urging. Tycho loses his own shirt and knees beside him, ducking to press a kiss to the center of his chest. He trails lips across the fine dusting of hair there, feeling Corran twisting beneath him as he takes a nipple between his lips and sucks it to a peak.

Tycho smiles as Corran chokes back a needy sound, switching to the other nipple as his hands smooth down his sides to slide under the hem of his sweatpants.

“Tycho, wait–”

Suddenly Corran is clutching his shoulder, and Tycho sits back, looking down at him. Corran's eyes are hazy with pleasure, but there's something else there, too, something darker.

“I-Isard,” Corran says tremulously, “did she ever– did she ever touch you? While you were there?”

Tycho draws in a deep breath, suddenly trembling a little himself. In all of his indistinct, fragmented memories, there's nothing like that. But those memories cover such a small amount of his time in Lusankya... “Not that I remember,” he says aloud, and it hangs in the hair between them for a long moment.

Corran looks away, swallows hard, then looks back. “She did me.”

“Corran, you don't have to tell me this.”

“I want to.” Corran drags in a breath. “I want to do this, now, and I– I just want you to know, okay? It was just the once. When I first woke up on the ship. I was naked, and she– she touched me. Made me come, just to prove she could do anything to me.” He looks away again.

“I'm sorry.”

Corran shrugs as well as he can lying down, clearly trying for nonchalant. “I survived, like you said. I'm not going to let her control me any more.”

“We don't have to do this. We can just talk.”

“I want to.” Corran sets his jaw, meets Tycho's eyes, green gaze intense. He takes Tycho's wrist, guiding his hand to press over his groin and arches up, firm, hot flesh in Tycho's palm. “I want this, Tycho.”

Tycho nods, and Corran lets go, relaxing against the bed again. Tycho eases his legs up and pulls down his pants and underwear, watching with interest as his cock slips free and stands at attention. Then he's leaning in, capturing the head between his lips, Corran's gasp of surprise and pleasure music to his ears as he swallows him down.

Tycho bobs his head, tightening the suction, giving everything he has and smiling around Corran's length as his sounds pick up in intensity. Then a hand is at Tycho's head, fingers hesitantly touching the tips of his hair, and he detaches one of his own hands from where he's securing Corran's hips to the mattress and presses him closer, curling his fingers into his hair.

Corran groans and bucks up against him, tightening his grip as he bucks up for the first time, and Tycho relaxes his throat and his hold on him, taking what he has to give.

“Tycho-” Corran gasps after just a few more thrusts, pulling his hair harder, pulling him off, and Tycho looks up to see his face beautifully flushed, chest heaving. “Sithspit,” he breathes, letting go of Tycho and running a shaking hand over his face. “If you keep that up, I can't–” He curses again, gaze raking over Tycho. “And you're not even undressed.”

“I can fix that.”

Tycho unfolds himself and stands, efficiently stripping himself the rest of the way. He watches Corran as he does, considering his next move. What will be easiest for the other man, what will be best for him – and what will give Tycho himself the most pleasure?

A grin curls onto his face as he crawls onto the bed again, kissing his way up Corran's chest to his neck, then lavishing attention on the spot behind his ear. “Corran,” he murmurs when he has him shivering, “I wonder if you would let me ride you.”

“I'm following your lead here,” Corran manages around a whine. “If that's what you think...”

“It is.” Tycho pecks him on the lips and leans back, reaching into the bedside drawer to retrieve a condom and bottle of lube.

Corran watches keenly as Tycho slicks his fingers then kneels up, reaching behind himself to begin the process of opening himself up. He catches his breath at the first penetration, forcing himself to breathe evenly as he presses inside, groaning softly at the stretch. It doesn't take long before he has two fingers moving smoothly in and out, and then he reaches just a little deeper – and keens as he finds his prostate and brushes deliberate strokes over it, again and again.

Corran is still watching him, mouth hanging open a bit, and Tycho can't help but feel even more pleasure at being the center of his attention like this. He arches his back, sighs at the new angle as his fingers keep moving, and tells Corran, “You can touch me, if you want to.”

Corran starts, seems to realize he really hasn't yet, and slowly reaches out. Tycho expects a shy start, perhaps on his arm or chest. He doesn't expect Corran's fingers to trail down his cock, leaving him abruptly twitching and bereft, before dipping between his legs, sliding inexorably along his perineum and touching Tycho's own fingers where they disappear inside him. Tycho slows his movements, and then Corran does what Tycho had been starting to think, maybe – and presses his fingers in next to Tycho's.

Tycho gives a soft cry, watches the way it echos on Corran's face as they move inside him together. The stretch is enough now, it's enough, but it feels so _good_ he doesn't want to stop. He clenches around their combined touch for a delicious moment, noting how it makes Corran's cock twitch, then gently takes hold of his wrist.

Tycho's voice is husky when he says, “That's good, now onto the main event,” and slowly draws him out, whining at the loss. Corran's eyes are wide, all pupil with the thinnest ring of green, as he nods wordlessly.

Tycho rips open the condom and slides it onto Corran, applying more lube to his hand and giving him a few strokes, marveling at the little mewls and sighs it draws from him. Then Tycho swings a leg over him, positions himself astride Corran and takes a deep breath as he eases them into alignment.

Tycho's eyes squeeze closed as he sinks down, a long, low moan rattling his chest at the sensation of being filled so thoroughly. Corran is thick, and it's been awhile for him. He doesn't try to hold back the sounds he's making, puts on a little show for him, even as knows the other man isn't paying much attention at the moment.

Corran is too busy making his own sounds, breath caught through his teeth, a bitten-off curse, as he feels that burning-hot tightness for the first time. Tycho pries his eyes open and grins down at him, because he remembers what that's like.

“All right?”

Corran jerks a nod. “Do...something,” he demands quietly.

Tycho does, grin widening as he lifts himself, then lowers back down, already starting to feel the burn in his thighs, the stretch inside where fingers weren't quite enough. A pleasant, intimate ache.

Corran's hands come up to grip his hips, natural, and Tycho relishes being held that way as he speeds his movements, starts to feel Corran unraveling more below him as he tosses his head against the bed and thrusts up to meet him.

Tycho gasps, breath torn from him, as they find coordination and Corran presses deeper inside him than he has yet, wrings more pleasure from him, and as he clamps down instinctively, Corran cries out too and lurches upright suddenly, dragging Tycho into a fierce kiss. Tycho gets one hand in Corran's hair, the other around his own cock.

He clenches around Corran as he moves again, drawing him closer to the edge. This is about Corran; he wants him to come first, and as he swallows a cry, Tycho can tell he's close. Corran's words that night on Noquivzor come back to him: _I'm not opposed to a bit of roughing up now and then, sir._ Tycho bites down on Corran's lip, jerks on his hair at the same time, and feels him go taught all around him as he comes, choking on a silent scream.

He falls back the bed, and Tycho follows, bracing his palms on Corran's chest as he lifts himself off of him and rolls onto his side. He gets a hand on himself again, strokes fast and confident, chasing nothing but his own pleasure now.

“Lemme,” Corran slurs, reaching for him, but Tycho bats his hand aside.

“Don't worry about me,” he manages, and then a moment later he's spilling over the sheets, gasping as pleasure overwhelms him.

He flops onto his back, and as the world swims back into focus the room is suddenly quiet, both of them just letting their breathing even out, their racing hearts calm. Tycho hears Corran slide the condom off and dispose of it in the waste basket beside the bed.

After another moment of calm, Tycho is about to speak, to tell Corran he need feel obligated neither to stay nor leave, when a hand slides tentatively across his chest and he turns to look. Corran's green eyes are wide and shocked as if he's been caught doing something he shouldn't. “Can I-?” he stumbles.

Tycho feels a swell of fondness that after what they've just done, this he's shy about. “Please,” he murmurs. “I always enjoy the closeness after the act.” He smiles as Corran slides closer, cuddles up next to him and rests his head on his shoulder.

“Me, too.”

Quiet reigns for another few moments before Tycho tells him, “You can stay if you want. Or if you'd rather leave, I won't take offense.”

Corran is thoughtfully silent for awhile before he turns his head into Tycho's chest and murmurs. “Well, I am already here.”

“You are.” Tycho smooths hair back from Corran's face, tangles his fingers in brown locks. Wonders, momentarily, if this is too much an intimacy now that the act is done, but Corran doesn't seem to mind.

“Might be nice not to be alone when the nightmares come back,” Corran adds softly.

Tycho thinks back to the one that had woken him up before Corran arrived. “I know what you mean.” He contemplates whether it's wise to add more, then decides to out with it. “If you're ever bothered like this again, my door is always open.”

“Or maybe when it's not like this?” Corran asks hopefully, and that vulnerability is back, just an undercurrent this time.

“Maybe,” Tycho agrees, in a tone that means yes. The thought of having Corran in his bed again more than appeals to him. Particularly if it's because he's seeking Tycho, seeking pleasure, not just being offered a distraction from his pain. “Might be a good idea to actually talk about this one of these days, though.”

Corran sighs. “You're not wrong.”

“Not tonight,” Tycho assures him, then he's biting out a long yawn. “Now, we sleep, I think.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Corran adjusts his head on Tycho's shoulder, eyes sliding shut, and Tycho smiles down at him and speaks the command that will deactivate the room's lights. He closes his own eyes, and in the dark, as they drift toward sleep, Corran murmurs one last thing.

“Thank you, Tycho.”


End file.
